Spring Fever
by SexySloth
Summary: On a hot day, Severus Snape is being his usual surly self. Can his assistant help him get over his winter blues? SS/HG


**AN: Um…so I'm not even gonna begin to talk about where my motivation has gone with regards to Out of the Darkness. But, in the meantime, and in honor of kissing this belatedly long and cold winter goodbye…a one shot. Ye be warned…smut below!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the world of the Harry Potter series. That honor is all JK's. I'm just having a bit of fun.**

Spring Fever

Severus flipped his account book open to the first blank page, scrawled the word May at the top with his quill, and then, with a resolute frown, began to input the data from the many scrolls of his receipt parchments. This was not normally his job, though he was not incapable of performing the mundane task. But his shop assistant had requested the morning off, and the receipts had to be done, so here he was, on this fine spring day, in typical Severus Snape fashion…not enjoying the beautiful weather outside.

His concentration was broken only by the bell at the front of his Apothecary, signaling a customer, or so he thought. But when he placed his quill down in annoyance, it was not a customer he saw stepping over the threshold…but a living goddess.

It took him a moment in which he was sure he looked the fool as he re-regulated his brain. This was obviously not an actual goddess, he realized, merely his shop assistant returning to her post after her free morning.

His very attractive shop assistant. His shop assistant whom he had most definitely _not_ hired because of her bewitching, carmel colored eyes. A woman whose ability to joke snakily and banter wittily on a varying number of his favorite subjects had had absolutely _NO_ effect on him what so-ever. A woman whom he was..most decidedly _not_…enamored with. Or at least, this is what he told himself.

Severus Snape had begun telling himself this very same thing for the past year and a half upon the very first moment she'd waltzed into his shop and asked for a position. Later, when she'd smugly left with a signed contract and an employee manual, he'd told himself that she was sufficiently qualified for the job. He reassured himself that the sparks he'd felt when she'd boldly shaken his hand upon receipt of the position had simply been a trick of the overly dry atmosphere of his office. He should really cast a humidifying charm, he'd thought absently as he'd watched her go in a swirl of sapphire blue robes and honeyed curls. That he'd noticed her robes and their flattering effect on her rosy cheeks had only to do with the particularly good meal he'd had that morning, he was sure of it. It had nothing to do at all with the way the robes had clung enticingly to her womanly figure. Most assuredly not.

With a sneer and a sharp flick of his head, he brushed aside his woolgathering for the moment as he busied himself once again with the accounts. There was, after all, no reason for her to finish what he'd already started. Determined to ignore her, if only to keep what he thought was a rather stupid look off of his face, he pressed on, adding up the bills of sale for the month Of May so far. There weren't many. it was only the end of the first week. His concentration was interrupted by the sudden flood of warm, sultry light from the windows.

"What the devil are you doing, woman," he shouted from his place behind the desk, his elegant hand covering his eyes at the sudden onslaught of brightness.

"Oh," she exclaimed, as she flung the last window wide in the as yet musty shop. "Well, it was a bit dank in , I thought we could both appreciate letting in some spring air," she said as she wiped her hands on her skirts. She withdrew her wand from her sleeve and cast a quick dust banishing charm. "There! Much better," she smiled as she walked behind the desk to grab her apron. "It's an absolutely gorgeous day out there today! Thanks much for letting me have this morning. Harry was desperate for my help with something, and I'd promised him I'd eek out some time to do it."

Severus, who was currently trying to re-organize the papers before him which had fluttered about in the course of her window-opening binge-merely grunted in response. He snuck a glance at her out of the corner of his eyes, and thanked the Gods, once again, for the benefits of having long hair. It was very useful for spying. Watching her bend at the waist as she tied the apron around the front of her, his fingers twitched with longing. He resolutely turned his eyes back to his work, lest she catch him being such a lecherous old fool. His self castigation morphed his face into a stern looking frown which caused his assistant to roll her eyes.

"For goodness sake, Severus," she said, mistaking his self-loathing for surliness, "Would you lighten up?It's finally, FINALLY spring. I'd only wanted you to enjoy it with me, since you've got to be stuck in here all day. You didn't take the morning off, I see."

He sighed, knowing he wouldn't really get any peace now that she'd arrived. Years ago he would have been bothered by her incessant chattering, her constant need to make conversation. But now, he found, it was comforting to have another presence around. He'd become quite accustomed to her nattering, and found it endearing, really. Pitiful, he thought. Perhaps he'd spent too many years alone.

"No, Hermione," he replied, putting away the ledger and rising, reaching to grab the vile she was after that was just out of her reach. Smirking when she huffed at him in annoyance, he continued. "I was working, as I always do. The seasons have no effect on my mood as they seem to have on yours."

She grinned, taking the vile from him, her smile warm and inviting. He gulped. She was standing rather close. Her cheeks looked so ruddy. Was it due to her walk to the shop that morning? Or had she woken with that incandescent glow? He felt the blood rush to several inappropriate places and the suddenness of it caused him to grow a bit dizzy.

"Severus, are you all right? You're looking a bit flushed."

"The heat…" he murmured, one hand deftly indicating the open windows and the warm, pure air pouring in.

"Yes, it is rather warm," she agreed, her eyes flickering downward then up once more. Was it his imagination? Or had she been staring at his mouth? He couldn't seem to think straight, gone was his ever present control, his rigid sense of comportment. He felt…feverish in the best way. She moved to stand closer to him, and his heart pounded as she placed the vial in it's proper place and her free hand grabbed his own. Her hand was so warm, so soft. He wondered if the rest of her was just as soft. Had she ever touched him in this way before? Had she ever touched him at all?

Absently, he realized she was saying something to him, and he rather thought he should answer. "Sorry, what?"

She raised a neatly formed brow and grinned. "I was saying it's tea time. Shall I close the shop up for the hour or shall you?"

Right, tea time. Food. Time to eat, and though his appetite gave an answering rumble, he knew that his bodily urges went somewhere south of his stomach. "I've got it, if you want to start the tea," he answered, and moved, unwillingly to the door, relinquishing her hand. He locked up shop and followed her into the back solarium, his own private source of renewal. It was a slightly enclosed garden, one half green house, the other half open aired herb garden for various ingredients to supply his potions stock. It saved him a pretty knut or two not having to outsource his products, and his customers appreciated the discount. He appreciated the revenue of his regulars.

The hot air of the garden wafted across his face, and he could see the shafts of bright sunlight filtering down through the panels of glass overhead. Hermione had set up the tea things, a plate of sandwiches and a pot of Earl Grey, the steam curling up from the dainty cups.

She turned, and he was suddenly very aware of just how warm it was. The heat had surrounded them both and she moved to take off her light sweater, revealing her milk-white skin to his hungry gaze. Only when his eyes travelled up over her form to her face did he notice the burning look in her whisky colored eyes.

"What is it," he asked, rather dimly. The heat must really be getting to him, and he found his hand tugging at the confines of his cravat. Why did he insist on wearing such contracting clothing? He couldn't remember at the moment, his mind was on other things.

"I was just thinking I must be coming down with something," she said in return, and he noticed that she'd taken several steps in his direction. She was so close that he could see the tiny beads of sweat on her temples.

He nodded. "You do appear to have a fever of some sort."

She smiled, slowly, sensuously. The quirking of her mouth did strange things to his body, and the answering tightening of his trousers was discomfiting in the heat. "Yes," she breathed. "A fever," he swallowed. She sounded…wanton.

His heart sped up, "I admit to feeling, rather strange myself."

"You must have it too, then," she said, and he watched in a mixture of awe and confusion as her hand came up to rest on the buttons of his frock coat. "So many buttons…."

"I prefer them to zippers," he said, his dark lashes fluttering as he felt her fingers trace the skin under the tight cravat. "Much, much safer." He tried to ignore how inane he sounded to himself.

"Indeed, and much more practical for situations like this."

"Situations….like this?" His adams apple bobbed beneath the constricting fabric, and all at once he felt the knot loosen at her hand.

"Yes," she nodded. "Situations like the one we are in are perfect for buttons." One by one she released the knobs of fabric from their catches and he felt his coat loosening around his chest.

"Hermione…"

"Yes Severus…"her hand was now at his waist. The answering throb in his groin almost made him moan aloud, and he bit back the sound, not wanting to sound like a schoolboy.

"Your fever…I thought…?" Why was his brain so clouded?

"A harmless affliction, or so I've heard. Brought on by the warmth and new life of springtime," she giggled. Haven't you ever heard of spring fever, Severus?"

He shook his head, and his body seemed to have a mind of its own, for he found that he had wrapped his arms around her was was pressing her softness into his body. He flushed with embarrassment, knowing that she could most definitely feel the full evidence of his overwhelming desire for her. There was no hiding the hard length of him against her belly. His heart swooped when she ground her hips experimentally, and he nearly saw stars with the sudden, unexpected stimulation of his erection.

"Gods…" he ground out, clutching her tighter.

"Yesssss, " she hissed, her small hands came to his and brought them around to the front where he was presented with her own line of buttons down her dress.

"Hermione…what are we doing, he panted, and even as he said it, he knew it was a lost cause. He was desperate for control, but she was having none of it. The slight, teasing undulations of her pelvis against his rock hard cock were not helping. Definitely not helping, he groused internally as he struggled for self-control. He wanted nothing more than to fling her over the waist high bench and rut with her like an animal in heat.

"Oh yessss," she hissed, hitching her leg up around him, her dress off of her shoulders now, open to her waist. Had his hands done that? "Do it, Gods…..please do it," she writhed against him obscenely. Only then, did he realize that he'd said his previous thought out loud. His heart thundered, logic no longer mattered. Whatever this was, he was powerless to resist it. With a groan of arousal, he grasped her by her shoulders and spun her around, her hips pressing into the table before them, his hips pressing into her ripe buttocks. He couldn't help but thrust against her experimentally, wanting to claim her, press her, be buried in her depths. "Take me, please, Severus, do it like you said. I want this. I want you…." she panted, her hands scrabbling at the neat rows of potted plants in front of her, "I have wanted you…so long," she moaned long and loud as his hands scrambled at her skirt, lifting it up and over her hips. He moved his hands up from her hips to up high on her waist, just below her heaving breasts, his thumbs just barely brushing the hardened nipples straining at the fabric of her bra.

"Yes, touch me," she ground out, and strong hands grasped his wrists, guiding his fingers where she wanted them, where he wanted them. Then he was cupping the firm, heavy swells of her flesh, kneading them, stroking each stiff tip with elegant digits…it was too much. Her thrusting hips, his straining manhood…he grunted in frustration and gripped her tighter.

"I need…"

"Yes, what do you need?"

His eyes clamped shut, he was wrestling for control. "I need to be inside of you, right now, Hermione. Merlin help me, I need that."

"Yes. It is what I need too. Please, Severus. Please…"

And he could no more have ignored that plaintive plea than she could have ignored his own answering gasp of delight. With shaking hands, unsteady from either nerves or desire-he couldn't be sure- he roughly tugged her pants down her legs, the slip of soft fabric kicked impatiently away. When she opened her legs wide for him, exposing that slick, secret place to him, he shuddered with need and grasped his aching cock in hand, placing the swollen tip of it against her open, welcoming heat.

"Now, yes, do it!" Her voice was throaty and urgent. He was so hard that it was nearly painful, and he prayed to any god he could think of to make this last at least as long as it took to make her cry out his name in ecstasy. Yes…" he groaned feeling her tight, wet walls slowly enveloping him. That would be enough. His attempts to go slow were destroyed when she thrust herself violently back against him, shocking him to the core in one great pulse of pleasure at being sheathed completely within her tunnel.

"F-f-fuck…" he stuttered, his vision momentarily gone. And then, with a shudder, he thrust. Once. Hard, and sure, as deep as he could get, and her answering cry of approval set him off running.

He thrust hard and fast, the slap of his testes against her wet flesh the most satisfying sound he'd ever heard, and her cries and mewls punctuated the hot, stagnant air around them were met with his growling grunts and shouts. Was there any greater pleasure than this? He was surrounded by her, entranced, empowered by her sounds, spurred on by her grasping hands as they reached behind her to grip his straggly hair to pull him closer.

"Yes, Gods…so full. I'm so full of you….Severusssss" her voice trailed off in a hiss as he gave her a particularly hard thrust that caused her knees to buckle and her tight flesh to flutter around him in response.

"Hermione….Gods….say it again,"

"So full of you…." she panted. He pumped harder, in and out. "Big…so big."

"Ughhhhh….." he gritted his teeth, he clenched his arse…anything to stave off the impending, powerful release his body was at the brink of. Just….a….little….longer….he begged the invisible forces around him as he brought his hands down from her jiggling breats-Merlin she had pretty tits- and he smiled widely when he found her soaked, distended clitoris. It was pressing out from her stimulated flesh like the stamens on a lily, and he slid his fingers around its protrusion, delighting in the shuddering cry he tore from her lips, the rhythmic tightening of her womanhood around his cock. Gods this was bliss, he thought, as he rotated his cock swiftly inside of her, pressing against the boundaries of her passage. He wanted to touch her everywhere that mattered, and everywhere that didn't. He wanted to be buried body and soul within her and never leave. He wanted to be surrounded by her, the musky smell of her desire filling his nostrils forevermore. And with a few deft strokes of his fingers, and several more violently passionate thrusts of his length, she broke. She shattered. She screamed his name to the heavens…

He tried, Merlin knew, he tried to last. But her orgasm, her clutching hands, had thrown him over the edge, and within moments he was thrusting as fast as he could go, his body dripping with sweat, his cock swelling, tightening, engorged thickly with blood…and he was exploding inside of her.

Spurt after spurt of his thick, hot, seed poured inside of her, filling her up, giving her all he had. He would always give her all he had, whatever she wanted, whatever she needed…forever if she would only let him.

His heart rate slowed as he shuddered with the last threads of his orgasm, and with a gust of breath that fanned her curls, he collapsed against her, doing his best not to crush her.

She was so quiet, after several long moments, that he wondered if she'd fallen asleep. But when he shifted his body out of her, she hissed at the unwelcome sensation of his leaving and she turned in his arms. He fumbled with his pants, trying to get them into some kind of order before he grabbed his wand and summoned the large wicker chair from across the room. He sank down into it gracefully and pulled her with him into his lap.

There were no words for several minutes. But she restored his confidence when she gently, ever so gently grasped his face in her hands and proceeded to kiss him softly on his mouth. There was no sexual intent, only comfort and sweetness. She tasted of honey, and spring, and he allowed this languid exploration of her mouth with his.

Finally, she broke away from him, and he gazed at her in awe. Her bright eyes, heavy lidded with statiety, her bee-stung lips, swollen from his kisses. She grinned at him sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders. "Happy spring," she murmured playfully, her smile was catching and he felt his own face easing into the unfamiliar expression.

"Happy spring indeed," but his face fell slightly when she rose and began to re-clasp her bra. When she located her hastily discarded pants and slid them up her legs, his heart had begin to sinka, and by the time she had her and his old doubts began to creep in. "Hermione…I…" he faltered, shielding his face behind his curtain of hair, taking comfort in it's masking abilities. "I can understand if this…." he waved his hand at the disarray around them. He had only just noticed the several broken pots, the piles of spilled soil, the discombobulated seed baskets. But she stopped him with an abrupt hand against his cheek, and he couldn't help but lean into what he hoped very much was a caress.

"Severus," she said, her warm voice comforting him, "I meant what I said earlier. I've wanted you for quite a long time," she smiled shyly. "I confess, I've never acted so wanton in my life. But there was just something in the air today that made me just want to…go for it!" She grinned.

He smirked. "Spring fever, eh?"

She laughed. "It's a silly old wive's tale."

His smirk softened to a shy smile. "It's not, all that silly to me, really."

She gazed at him, her eyes bright with mischief. "Right. No, I agree. Not so silly at all," and with a set of her shoulders, she seemed to make a decision. "What's say we close up shop for the day and go enjoy this weather? Seems a shame to let a day like this go to waste." She came to his side and clasped his hand in her own, a repeat of her earlier entreaty in the shop. "Then we can talk about things."

Severus felt his heart speed up, his fears receding, and life suddenly looking a whole lot brighter than it had this morning.

He stood and began to re-button his shirt, this time not bothering with the cravat or the frock coat. After all, he thought with a very un-Snape like grin. It was springtime.

The End

**AN: Well, I hope you enjoyed this little piece. It came to me out of no-where as plot bunnies are won't to do. And since it is springtime, there do seem to be quite a large number of plot bunnies scampering around. **

**SS**


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